


Prelude

by skywxlker



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vault 101
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywxlker/pseuds/skywxlker
Summary: A take on my Lone Wanderer's childhood and adolescence. Sometimes, surviving in the Wasteland felt easier than surviving in the Vault.





	1. Baby Steps

**Author's Note:**

> I'm using my Lone Wanderer, Florence. Hopefully everything goes smoothly! I hope you enjoy.

“Don’t look straight into the light, honey. You’ll hurt your eyes. It’s just… something you get used to down here.”

James often had to remind himself of the same advice. Even after a year, life in the Vault was still… an experience. Still, it was all worth it, if it meant keeping the little girl before him safe and sound. He had to remind himself of that, sometimes, too.

The infant blinked up at James, almost as if she understood what he was saying. James was across the room from his child, kneeling down encouragingly. Florence looked at him quizzically, her head tilting to one side.

“Come on over here, honey. Walk to Daddy,” James spoke gently to the toddler, who still looked at him with innocent confusion. He held his arms out for her, urging her on. Florence let out a small noise as she heaved herself up off the floor and onto unsteady feet, her big eyes focused only on her father. James smiled slightly at the sight, continuing to wait for her. He’d been trying for the past week to teach her how to walk, and despite her lingering reluctance, she was beginning to understand. He tried to ignore the pang in his heart at the thought of Catherine missing this. Before he could get too caught up in his thoughts, the doctor became distracted by his daughter toddling, rather precariously, forward. Her face was screwed up in careful concentration, even as she wobbled more than once. As Florence finally came into reach of James, she hurried up, falling into his arms with a gummy smile.

“There you go! My goodness, just a year old and already walking like a pro! Your mother would’ve been so proud,” James told her, not without a hint of sadness softening his voice in the final statement.

Florence, however, recognised the praising tone in his voice and giggled gleefully, grasping onto his white jacket. The smile faded, though, as James placed her carefully back down onto the floor. She realised she’d let him trick her into walking straight into her playpen and pouted unhappily.

“Listen kiddo, I know you don’t like it when Daddy leaves you alone, but I need you to take care of yourself for a minute. You just stay here while Daddy runs to his office…”

Florence watched him, blinking nervously. The room felt big and empty and scary without her father there with her.

“You’ll be okay, honey. I’ll be back in a bit,” James reassured her.

The door shut smoothly behind the older man as he walked out, and the infant’s eyes darted around the room to find something to occupy herself with. Her big red ball sat in the corner of the pen, and she crawled over to it with almost a sense of glee. At least her old, hand-me-down toys wouldn’t leave her alone. She rolled the shiny ball around, tottering after it as it bounced against the playpen gate. Florence looked up at it with scrutiny. Reaching her small hands up, she managed to unlatch it and swing it open. Without a care in the world or a thought for disobeying her father, she made her way out of the pen, eyes set firmly on the trunk of toys sitting near the door. With both hands, she climbed up onto the chair sat beside it and dropped down into the box, pulling her teddy into her arms. The slightly worn stuffed bear was a comfort to her and she hugged it close, keeping it closely to her chest as she clambered back out. The girl just did not understand why her father insisted on trying to keep her in her playpen when _clearly_ she was doing no harm outside it. Sitting down on the thin rug contentedly, Florence, with her teddy in her lap, pulled the _You’re Special_ book in front of her. Although she didn’t understand its meaning, she enjoyed the pictures and colours the pages offered her. Florence only looked up when she heard the soft laughter of her father upon his return.

“Da-da,” she chirped, as though she could speak eloquently.

“You are quite the little explorer, aren’t you? Serves me right for trying to pen you in.”

Florence raised her arms, indicating that she wanted to be lifted. James obliged, holding her closely. The little girl was only too pleased to rest against him, making a happy noise to show her approval.

“I want to show you something,” James told her gently, seating himself where she had previously been. Beside them sat the framed quote that Florence easily recognised but did not comprehend.

“See that? That was your mother’s favourite passage. It’s from the Bible.”

Florence nodded to indicate her interest, looking at the handwritten extract.

“Revelation 21:6. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely,” James recited, not needing to refer to the writing. He knew it by heart already. Doing so made him feel more connected to Catherine, despite being so far away from her, his former life and the outside world. He looked down at their daughter, and briefly remembered the excitement they had felt upon discovering Catherine was pregnant. The plans they had had. Florence put her hands either side of his face, in some sort of effort to comfort her beloved father. He got a faraway look sometimes, and even as a toddler, she recognised it. James half-smiled and leaned into her little hands, squashing down the more negative of thoughts.

“She always loved that,” James finally said, somewhat sighing, after the pause. He cleared his throat after feeling a lump forming uncomfortably, and combed his fingers through her wispy hair. “Alright, come on. Let’s go see if your little friend Amata wants to play.”

Florence’s eyes lit up at the mention of Amata. Holding on to James tightly, she relaxed as he began to carry her out into the corridor. Things would be okay. She just knew it. And James forced himself to think so too.  



	2. Incompetent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James suffers another loss, and realises that the Overseer and himself were just never going to get along.

“Are you  _ sure _ you don’t mind taking her for a few hours?” James asked once again, just to be sure, holding Florence in his arms. Mrs. Almodovar clicked her tongue, and held out her arm to take the infant. 

“It’s no bother at all, James. I promise,” she chuckled. “Both Amata and myself enjoy Flossie’s company.” 

James relaxed, handing his daughter to the shorter woman. 

“I don’t know how I’d get all my work done without the help from both you and Lucy Palmer,” he quipped. Mrs. Almodovar patted his arm with her free hand. 

“We have fun, don’t we?” the Overseer’s wife cooed, bouncing Florence playfully. The little girl nodded enthusiastically, giggling and grasping onto her blue jumpsuit affectionately. It warmed James’ heart to see her so happy, especially with the family of the Overseer. 

“I’ll come pick her up by dinnertime,” James told her. Mrs. Almodovar nodded, lips quirked, before turning and starting to walk towards the open door of the clinic. James watched her as she went, waving at his daughter as she grinned at him over her shoulder. Florence’s smile faded, however, and she turned her attention to Amata’s mother as she came to an abrupt halt. James’ brow furrowed. 

“Are you alright?” he called out, with a strange and familiar sense of dread.

Mrs. Almodovar bent over carefully, placing a clearly confused Florence down onto the cool grey floor. She turned around to face James as he began to walk towards her, but didn’t meet his eye before collapsing backwards, already unconscious. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

When James first entered the Vault, he fooled himself into thinking that death would not follow him around like a dark cloud, like the dark cloud hanging over the Wasteland. Two years after that initial illusion, he was definitely convinced of the opposite. Wherever he was… wherever humans were, death would not be far behind. That would never change.

Being the Vault Doctor certainly did not make things easier. It only put him on the front line, and at times like this, could bring back raw memories he still was not over. James didn’t think he’d ever be over them. 

Not even a week later, Mrs. Almodovar was dead. It had been a shock to them all, a sudden illness nobody could understand the origins of. A general air of fear, for both the possibility of catching whatever she had and the consequences of her death, had permeated the small community, and frankly, James did not blame them. The Overseer’s wife really was the voice of reason against the hot-headed leader. She had become a friend to James, and encouraged others to accept him too, despite all odds. 

Despite her husband’s disapproval. 

Upon his and Florence’s arrival, she had taken it upon herself to welcome them, to make them feel at home, all whilst being pregnant herself. And when Amata was born, she only grew closer – Florence often went to visit Amata under the watchful eye of the doting mother, and James was happy for that, as it meant Florence could have a maternal figure as well as a friend to play with. All he wanted for the little girl was to be safe, and happy, and one day…

No. It wasn’t the time to think about that.

For most of the time James was away, Lucy -- ‘Old Lady Palmer’, as she’d been dubbed -- had thankfully been able to take care of Florence, and when he returned home hours after Mrs. Almodovar's death, she informed him that she was asleep in their shared room. Her greying hair and ageing face usually did nothing to deter from the energy she still managed for exude, but right now, even she seemed on-edge and worn out. She seemed to notice the weariness in James’ eyes, and didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t need to. Bidding him a downcast goodnight, Lucy left him alone in the living area of his quarters. 

He spared a moment to look around the apartment he shared with his beloved toddler. He had sometimes heard people complaining about various issues to do with their rooms -- usually trivial things, like faded or patched up furniture that displeased them. He had to remember how they had never been outside. Had never seen _real_ poverty. Their ignorance baffled him more often than not.   
These rooms wouldn’t be theirs for much longer -- the pair of them would move into normal-sized quarters once Florence was old enough. He supposed he wouldn’t miss having to sneak around so much to be quiet if he came home late from work, considering they would have separate rooms. And Florence would probably enjoy a bit more independence. He… hoped.  
The doctor flopped down onto the worn, off-white couch, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hand. He couldn’t save Mrs. Almodovar. Just like he couldn’t save Catherine. God, he wished he could absolve himself of the guilt he felt for both women. But he knew that wouldn’t be easy, perhaps even impossible. The Overseer was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, and James knew that he would be the first victim of the explosion. Alphonse hated him at the best of times, and now that he couldn’t even save his wife…

Apparently, he was going to find out his fate sooner than he thought.

A loud knocking -- pounding -- on his door made him wince, and he prayed that Florence hadn’t woken up as a result. He got up, hurrying over to open it, mainly to stop the loud noise. Unsurprisingly, the Overseer was behind it. Without even asking or saying a word, the man pushed past James into the small room. James turned back around, the door closing behind him. 

“Is there something I can... help you with?” James asked cautiously, trying to maintain a degree of professionalism. He eyed the Overseer as though he was a dangerous predator. The other man was somewhat more ragged and dishevelled than his usual stoic appearance, and his lips were drawn into a tight line.   
Alphonse sucked in a tense breath.   
“You should have saved her.”  
James wasn’t surprised by the Overseer’s remark.   
“I did all I--”  
“Did you? Is that why she’s  _ dead _ now?”  The Overseer’s voice grew increasingly louder, and James grew even more anxious. “I should have never trusted you, if that’s the kind of medical care on the  _ outside _ \--”  
“That has nothing to do with this,” James interrupted. “Your wife was suffering from an awful and very fast-working disease. No medicine, outside  _ or _ in here, could help her.”  
Alphonse’s look grew darker.   
“So what’s the excuse for not being able to save your  _ own _ wife?” he all but hissed. The comments only purpose was clearly to strike a painful nerve in James.   
James pursed his lips, his fists almost clenching. He went to say something, but held his tongue, knowing that anything he said without thinking would jeopardise him, and more importantly, his daughter, further.  “ _ My _ wife is completely irrelevant to this. I understand and am sorry for your loss--”  
“My loss?!  _ My _ loss?” Alphonse burst. “My daughter has to grow up  _ without _ a mother--”  
“As does mine!” James snapped, his tiredness getting the better of him. In the other room, he could hear Florence stirring. The Overseer seemed to stiffen even further at the mention of her -- his own daughter’s best friend.   
“I should have left you and your brat out in that hell,” Alphonse muttered. “Clearly you are incompetent scum.” “Who would be your doctor then, hm? Andy?” James spoke sarcastically. Before Alphonse could reply, the other man continued. “You are not the only person who cared about her, you know.”  
The Overseer laughed humorlessly.   
“Are you trying to say that  _ you _ cared about her? I always told her to ignore you and your… your offspring.”   
“She really paid attention to you in regards to that then, didn’t she? Maybe you could learn something from her.”  
“And  _ what _ would that be?” The Overseer spoke bitterly.   
“ _ Kindness. _ ”  
That seemed to somewhat perplex the Overseer.  
“I am not going to stand here and be lectured by  _ you _ !” he exclaimed, marching towards the door. “Let me make one thing clear. You are only here now because it would be too  _ suspicious _ to dispose of you,” Alphonse spat before leaving, storming down the corridor. 

James blinked, the entirety of that exchange --  the whole day, really -- stunning him into silence. He had barely even had a chance to think about his  _ own  _ loss from this. He went to sit back down on the sofa, but the sound of Florence crying disturbed him. At least she had waited until  _ after  _  the Overseer had left. James rubbed his eyes and wished the day would just end already.   
Putting on a calmer face, and taking some deep breaths, the doctor went to attend to his child. Their shared bedroom was dark, apart from a dim lamp on his bedside table, and Florence looked up at him from her crib, eyes wide and teary.   
“Daddy,” she whimpered, holding her arms up to be lifted.   
James looked at her with pity, scooping her up against his chest.   
“Bad dream?” he asked quietly. Florence nodded, sniffling and burying her face into the crook of his neck. Her father rubbed her back, kissing the side of her head. The soft and wispy auburn hair tickled his cheek.  
“Shh… you’re safe now,” he spoke softly. “No more monsters. No more nightmares. Shh… that’s it. Daddy’s got you.”  
Florence’s noises grew quieter, but she still gripped onto him tightly.  
“Where’s Mummy?” she asked through a sniffle, her voice muffled against his shoulder.  
James closed his eyes, exhaling a long breath.   
“D’you miss her?” Florence continued in the same way.   
“Your mummy? Oh, sweetie… I… of course I miss her. I miss her… so much. Each day more than the last.”   
His voice cracked a little, suddenly sounding foreign to his own ears, and Florence pulled back to look at him, big brown eyes meeting his own. She seemed to be studying his expression, before nodding slightly.   
“Don’t be sad,” she whispered, leaning their foreheads together. James couldn’t help but smile a little despite his grief. Florence was so caring and loving, it was, at times, as if nothing in the world could break her spirit and empathy. He could only pray she kept that selfless trait as she grew, but that she wouldn’t allow herself to be taken advantage of. She did not deserve to be used.   
“Come on, you. Time for bed,” James told her quietly, changing the subject. The bad news could wait until morning for her, he decided. She seemed too sleepy to protest too much. He gave her a hug and a kiss before setting her back down, tucking the child in. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”  
She gave him a small smile. “Night night, Daddy.”  


James kept an eye on her for a little while longer to make sure she fell asleep peacefully once more, before going to get ready for bed himself. It was at times like this he missed the stars, and the night sky above him. He missed his old friends, and his wife, instead of just-about-tolerant neighbours and a belligerent leader.   
He pushed aside his personal sadness to try and get some sleep, and to adhere to the wishes of the toddler across the room.   
If nothing else, at least he had her to keep him sane.   
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope to update as soon as possible :)


End file.
